There's Always Something
by Emz951
Summary: Harry's killed Voldemort, but lost the love of his life in the struggle. So there's nothing left to live for, is there?


A/N: I was hit by one of those overwhelming urges to write something angsty, and here is the pitiful result:

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**There's Always Something**

There was a moment of pause. Then Harry struck. Struck with all the force he could muster straight into Malfoy's jaw and felt a cruel stab of pleasure at the resulting sickening crunch.

The tears poured down his face. It was all over, but how was it worth it? How could anything be worth anything with the love of his life lost forever? What did it matter that the curse of the wizarding world of the last fifty years was gone, if his heart was too broken to remember? _What the fuck did it matter?_

There was nothing but an endless abyss of pain. Pain that seared like a jagged knife through his chest; cutting, twisting cruelly, widening the invisible wound. It was too much to bear. Half-crazed, he reached for his wand. The metaphorical knife could become real, and in one short stab of pain take all the rest away. There was no reason to live now: both Voldemort and Ginny were gone. So he choked through the racking sobs, gasping the curse that would stop the pain, clear his heart at last.

And that was when Draco found him, and pulled his wand gently from his hand. Harry snarled, feral anger in his eyes, the only emotion that could make any headway against the pain. How _dare_ Malfoy let Harry continue to suffer? Couldn't he be allowed this, the only peace left to him? _Why the fuck not?_

So that was when he struck out, almost unaware of his actions. Only one thing registered in his brain: the oblivious, overwhelming urge to hurt, to make someone else suffer as much as he did. So he hit, blindly and repeatedly, at the small figure in front of him. Draco did not respond, did not hit back. He simply waited, feeling the blood trickling down his jaw, and took all the pain Harry laid into him.

And finally it was over. Finally the torrential blows ceased to fall, and Harry fell limply at his side, having spent all his energy, expended his anger. Wincing slightly, he caught him just before he hit the ground. The boy's eyes were unfocused and blurred with tears, as he stared up at Draco with more emotion and suffering than should ever have been in the eyes of one so young.

Draco couldn't help it; couldn't think; couldn't seem to remember the years of enmity that existed between them. In the depth of pain that filled Harry's eyes, it suddenly ceased to matter. All that mattered was finding some way to lessen the hurt.

He still held the deathly-still boy in an almost-embrace, inches above the ground. He relaxed his grip slightly and let Harry fall the ground, before touching the side of his neck in an unmistakable caress. Harry's eyes flickered closed and Draco stiffened slightly, worried that it really was possible to die of a broken heart. He bent close, long pale fingers trailing along Harry's cheek, wiping tears from his dark eyelashes; and allowed a small sigh of relief to escape his lips at the realisation that the boy was still breathing. The sigh was the first sound he had made that evening so far. To his ears it sounded weak, inconsequential; but as he brought his eyes up, he saw Harry's had opened, only inches from his own.

And then he ceased to think, ceased to feel. He acted reflexively, doing the only thing that made sense in that instant. He lowered his lips, gently at first in a sweet, tender kiss. But harder then, as he felt no response from the lifeless boy beneath him. He took his Harry's bottom lip between his teeth and bit hard, worried that there was to be no response, that Harry was already dead to the world. But then he felt the reply, and it was though all else ceased to exist.

Harry clung onto the lips plundering his own, refusing to let them pull away. He kissed back, hard and deep, forcing all his anger and pain into the mouth on his own. He bit, warred and struggled, refusing to let himself think; instead letting the feelings take over. Draco did not draw away.

For timeless seconds, minutes, hours he stayed, feeling sharp teeth tear into his lips, welcoming this new pain saving him from the rest.

And then it was over. He looked up into the bloodied, bruised and scratched face above and felt something other, outside the pain and numbness. The deadened depth to his eyes was gone as he stared up at Draco, eyes wide, and realised that no matter what had passed, there was always something left to live for.


End file.
